Dirt Upon a Name
by yamimagic
Summary: A day in the life of Draco Malfoy, dirt upon the name of Malfoy. Me thinks it's in a coma...
1. Default Chapter

Dirt upon a Name By: Yamimagic  
  
Summary: A day in the life of Draco Malfoy, dirt upon the name of Malfoy.  
  
Warnings: swearing, swearing, swearing, violence, gore, angst, general unhappy stuff  
  
Rating: R for the above  
  
Disclaimer: J K Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe and all of its contents. I ask that you please do not sue me for what little I have.  
  
Archive: Fanfiction.net and it's staying here for a while  
  
Reviews: Reviews are welcome, both constructive and not. Flames do not equal criticism.  
  
Author's notes: Please take note to the above. I will not be responsible for little children who happen to come across this. On a happier note, this is one of my first fan fictions that involve multiple chapters. I am an America living on the west coast of the states, and have ever been to Europe. If I happen to make any serious mistakes, would you please tell me what I did wrong and I will try to fix it.  
  
-----  
  
Hands wrap around my throat, successfully cutting of my air supply. I open my eyes to see a mass of shoulder length blond hair and a pair gleaming grey eyes peaking around the stray locks. A look of pure hatred reflected in the pale orbs.  
  
And as suddenly as it began, it just as suddenly ended. I lie on the cool tile floor, a heap of flesh dirtying the name of Malfoy. A kick to the ribs and my tormenter, my father, makes his way to the room's exit. I hear the door open with a quiet creak and close with a loud thud.  
  
I look in the direction of the door and after a few moments taken to ensure that my father will not decide to return, I decide to get up off the floor and head to the bathroom to wash, grapping a fresh set of clothes, my previous ones now ripped, ragged, and torn.  
  
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, a number of bruises and cuts slowly making their presence known to the outside world. I discard of whatever remains of clothes I have and after a period of waiting for the water to heat, I step in. Lathering my hair, I wonder what I did to deserve this treatment.  
  
I settle on 'Because I live' as an answer and after successfully scraping my skin so hard that it turns red, drying myself and bandaging my wounds, I exit the washroom clad in a clean pair of trousers and a long-sleeved turtle neck shirt. I look at my watch to see that I will be expected in the dinning room in a few short hours. Funny how long a few minutes seem when you're writhing in pain on the ground.  
  
I spend my time alone reading and finishing my summer homework, thankful for something to do. I always know I can rely on Professor Snape to supply us with enough homework to keep any of us, no matter the house, busy for a good number of days.  
  
Just as I finish writing my essay on the properties of gillyweed, I realize it's almost dinner, so I pack up my school supplies, put them atop my desk, and make my way down to the dinning hall.  
  
The Malfoy manor is a rather large estate 15 some miles outside Birmingham. The house itself faces south, me living in the west wing, my father in the north, and my mother in the east wing.  
  
The outer area of the house consists of a small lake, an area specially set up for the practice and sport of archery (my father having taken a liking to it), a stable, and various intersecting trails for horseback riding and the likes.  
  
As I wander down the stairs to the first floor, my room having been on the third floor, my mind drifts to how old this house is. The thought always seems to come to mind as I wander the endless halls I am forced into calling my home. I know that the manor was passed down to my father from my grandfather and so on and so forth but how long did it last. Surly the Malfoy line didn't extend into the prehistoric period. At least I hope it didn't. Seeing someone of the Malfoy name wearing anything but highly expensive armoire is not something I hope to see any time in the near (or far) future.  
  
I pass by some black and white photographs of my forbearers and the topic at hand is forced back into my mind. Below each moving display of family history is a date, some reaching into the medieval times but stopping soon after.  
  
My musing is cut short as the entryway to the dining room comes into clear sight. After a moment to regain some semblance to myself, I push open the swinging door separating me from my two parents who happen to hate each other and myself with a passion. 


	2. chapter two

Dirt upon a Name  
  
By: Yamimagic  
  
Author's notes: None too special. The use of the word f--- latter on, but nothing too bad. Also be warned to beware Draco rantings.  
  
I enter the dinning room and one thing stands out like a cloud in the sky, the tension between my parents.  
  
Keeping my thoughts to myself, I saunter over to the table, head held up high, a stature that just screams the name 'Malfoy', and I casually sit down in the chair opposite two of the people who spite me beyond anything else.  
  
The house elves bring in our food, suffer a bit of verbal and physical abuse from my father, and flee, leaving me at the mercy of my parents. Thankfully, my father seems to be in a good mood, or at least better than he was feeling earlier, allowing me to eat my meal in relative silence.  
  
I excuse myself with the reasoning that I have a slight stomach ache, which isn't entirely untrue. I have come down with a minor cold a few days ago and upon knowing this, my father grants me the privilege to tend to it. I travel back to my room, ignore the rising feeling of pain in my gut, and manage to down some painkillers along with a glass of water. I just wish that these stupid pills would work faster. Damn these muggles and their useless muggle remedies.  
  
I figure my stomach as full and decide that an early turn in is in order, after all, I don't have anything upcoming later in the evening. I briefly change into a pair of pajamas and climb into bed, thankful for a means of escape.  
  
I wake a few short hours after the crack of dawn. After wiping away the sleep that refuses to leave me be, I change out of my sweat soaked pajamas (Merlin, why are these summer nights so damn hot?), shower, and into a pair of jeans, and a casual shirt. Today was the day that I would buy my school supplies having gotten my Hogwarts letter yesterday morning.  
  
After getting ready, I follow my morning routine and head down to the dinning hall to eat breakfast, listen to my father and mother rant about nothing in particular, have my daily cup of coffee, and nearly escape a beating, using my quick thinking and sharp wit to come up with some excuse.  
  
Diagon Ally sure hasn't changed, has it? Same old senile wizards and witches inhabiting the streets. Same old idiot classmates running about, not knowing what the hell to do with themselves.  
  
I make my way to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, having already gathered a rather large amount of money from Gringotts, my brat-like persona turned 'on'.  
  
Entering the store, I notice some familiar faces, taking mind and greeting my fellow Slytherins, ignoring everyone else. I gather some necessities, mainly my school robes, pay for my purchases, and leave the crowded store.  
  
I wander around gathering and buying my school books, from Flourish and Blotts, buying myself a scoop of ice cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, and wandering the area and what not. My parents disappeared into the crowd sometime after first entering the alley, but I would assume that they're somewhere in Knockturn alley. Probably buying some strange sinister gadgets. I just know that whatever my father buys will somehow be used to inflict pain upon me. As thought I didn't already know this first hand. Hurting me seems to be his favorite way to test out his newest toys.  
  
I continue my stroll around the stores, navigating myself in circles around the alley, killing some spare time until my parents return.  
  
As I wander the streets, I suddenly hear my name being called from some where behind me.  
  
'Draco!'  
  
I turn around to see my father and mother advancing toward me. Only a few moments later, 'Are you ready to go now, Draco?'  
  
'Yes, Father.' I reply, truthfully. It really does get tiring walking around Diagon Alley for four hours straight.  
  
As soon as I get home, my family and I have dinner following the same routine as always. It's always the same, working as a never changing cycle. I really hate my life.  
  
Hence the main reason I consider Potter my rival. Preppy, prince charming Harry Potter. Damn him and his fucking fucked up perfect life. Perfect friends, perfect grades (not counting potions), and a fucking perfect life. Fuck Potter.  
  
'Draco?' I look up to see my father looking at me with something that would almost seem to be concern if not for the fact that I've know this man my whole life, knowing that things are never what they seem when it comes to my father, Lucius Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy manor, and a royal pain in my arse.  
  
A/N: Will try to get the next couple chapters latter on in the month. Maybe something in early December. A lot to do. Yanno, school. Blech. 


End file.
